


Loved

by Readerinsertfanfiction



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22628713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readerinsertfanfiction/pseuds/Readerinsertfanfiction
Summary: Prompt: Based on the quotes: “If you love something set it free, if it returns it is meant to be.” and “Love is a choice.” Both quotes that in its very basics hold their truths but neglect to explain a deeper nuance.AKA: I’m not a fan of pretentious quotes of deep and profound wisdom (but I’m full of them LOL).
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi/Reader
Kudos: 24





	Loved

**Author's Note:**

> This work is classified as fanfiction. All named characters belong to their respective creators. I, readerinsertfanfiction, as the creator of this particular work do not give any permission for my work to be posted, hosted or shared through any third-party app, website or user.

You had loved him deeply. You really had. Not in the same way as the rest did, not out of admiration, but true adoration. Where his admirers swooned over his apparent apathy and cool attitude, where they cheered over his smooth moves and obvious talent you had seen his kindness. The fact that he wouldn’t let his opponent touch the ground, catching them in time as he brought them down. The way he cared for his little brother, a rare smile cracking across his lips whenever he turned the young boy down with yet another apology. These actions couldn’t hide the depressing acceptance he had come to face that was his existence. The fact that he liked sweets and was kind of bad at expressing himself. All of these traits were carefully hidden underneath that cool exterior of his that others mistook for strength, for brutality. 

When Itachi Uchiha murdered his clan you couldn’t believe the story. Not him. Not the kind boy that was unable to turn away his followers because he didn’t want to hurt their feelings. Not the boy that always made sure that his sparring partners weren’t harmed even if they swung in with the full intent to shove him into the mud. 

Perhaps you hadn’t been so different from the rest. Perhaps in a way you were also blinded by admiration instead of true understanding, only calling it adoration because you arrogantly believed yourself to have seen through him. 

That still didn’t dull the ache within your heart. It didn’t take away the fact that you had loved him, in a way. Perhaps it was a childish love, spawn from your own immaturity, but it was a type of love, you couldn’t deny it. The pain within your heart was too insistent. 

Perhaps, if you had been a more determined person you would have stubbornly waited for the truth to come out. If you had been more headstrong you would have exclaimed that you would wait for him to explain himself, because your observations couldn’t fool you and your love was true. You would even have looked for excuses for him, made up the stories to fill up the holes, base your assumptions off onto what you had seen of him as a person and what you had known. 

Perhaps, though you would rather not suffer that pain. He had committed the heinous act and there was nothing that could cleanse away that sin. No excuse would be enough to bring back the lives taken. No story would be enough to forgive the deed committed, no matter how reasonable it was made to sound. 

It was another type of love. A love that never came to be and ended before it even existed. A love you quickly let go of, deciding that it had existed within the innocent crevices of your own mind, smothered as you decided that a love that hurt was not worth the wait for its return.


End file.
